


The Herald's Tale

by the_phantomime



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-09-17
Packaged: 2019-05-08 22:40:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14703921
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_phantomime/pseuds/the_phantomime
Summary: An unremarkable elf from a Dalish clan suddenly finds himself called the Herald of Andraste by the people who persecuted his kind. Armed only with a mysterious mark and a burning curiosity, he must overcome the prejudice of humans and save the world from the Breach, with the help of such characters as the brash Seeker Cassandra, the snarky dwarf Varric and the mysterious elven mage Solas. Together, they embark on a mission to stop the end of the world and uncover the truth about the evil behind the chaos.That is, if they can keep his hands off the elfroots.





	1. Chapter 1

If he knew he was going to die today, he would’ve thought a more appropriate epitaph. Something no one will definitely witness, but something that might grant him mercy, were any being on the afterlife heard it. But as it happens, he didn’t, and so as the great ball of light blasted him to oblivion, his last thought was “Oooooh, shiny.”

But though he did not go with éclat, it must have worked to entice notice. Maybe it’s pity, but most probably disgust at his patheticness, for why else have they flung him back to life so rudely?

He groaned and felt his cheek touching the cold, stone floor. Vaguely, he heard footsteps running away, so sore he was that he was oblivious to his surroundings. He lifted himself upright and found his arms were stiff. Stiff, for they were bound with iron. But it was not what worried him most, for he saw a green glow emanating from his left palm. He opened it, slowly, fearfully and saw green light shimmering like a wound.

He shrieked and tried to get rid of it, the chains jangling in the silent cell, when the door burst open and a tall woman in armor came striding forward. He looked up from his panic, hearing the ring of her steel boots growing louder until it stopped in front of him.

“Tell me,” the woman hissed, her voice echoing with the harshness of Nevarra. Her dark eyes stared down at him, furious, her terrible aspect enhanced by the severe features of her face and pursed mouth. What little light there was only illuminated the scar running from jaw to cheek to her cropped hair, shining like a dark halo of danger.

He only blinked and stayed silent. He couldn’t remember why he was here or why his palm is glowing and what little wit he had is chased off by her intimidating presence.

The woman misunderstood his silence for obstinacy and snarled. “Tell me why I shouldn’t kill you right now. The Conclave is destroyed and everyone who attended is dead-except for you.”

“Look, I don’t know who you are, I don’t remember what happened so why are you blaming me?”

She reached down and lifted up his glowing palm to his face. “Explain this!”

He looked at the light placed inches of his face, in terror, and said “I can’t.”

“What do you mean you can’t?” she demanded.

“I don’t know what that is. I don’t remember having that or how it got there!”

“You’re lying!” With her other hand, she grabbed him by his shirt roughly, lifting him. She was determined to shake the answers out of him if he would not tell her himself, but long white hands appeared on her shoulder and drew her away. She released him and he hit the floor, his interrogator being restrained by a hooded woman. He then noticed they were not alone, there were guards around them. Curiously, they did not seem to be in the mood for laughing as the city ones were wont to do with his kind, for they look pale, their eyes wide with…fear? Not from him, certainly. What could they have seen to make them look like ghosts?

“We need him, Cassandra,” the hooded woman said soothingly, in the nasal tones of Orlais. The one named Cassandra glanced at her, and, after a moment, in silent agreement, stepped back. The hooded woman then stepped forward to him and into the light.

Her face is as pretty as her voice. She has a fine nose, rosebud lips and alabaster skin matching with her red hair. “Do you remember what happened? How this began?” she asked him, her voice gentle. Curiously, this gentleness did not reflect in her blue eyes; they stared at him like the eyes of a raptor.

Thank the gods, but he has recovered some of his memory. “I remember running,” he croaked. “Things were chasing me…then a woman..” He drew a blank.

“A woman?” she asked, surprised, her eyes losing a little of its menace.

“She reached out to me…” He winced and cocked his head. After a moment, he shook his head. “No, I can’t remember anything else.”

The dar- haired woman had enough. “Go to the forward camp Leliana. I will take him to the rift.” Leliana straightened up and nodded before walking out the cell. He meanwhile, noticed the exchange and stored it for use later. He thought at first that Leliana was the leader, but maybe it was the other way around?

“What did happen?” he asked her, as a guard unlocked his chains and bound him with rope.

 “It will be easier to show you. Come with me, ” she said and opened the door.

* * *

Cassandra looked at the prisoner skeptically as he stumbled out the door and into the sickly looking world outside, his big green eyes staring and reflecting the unnatural sky. She was becoming doubtful of his role in the explosion, for his mouth fell open at the sight of the great, churning clouds from afar, the one they call the Rift. As she took in his slender body, his long ears pinned back in fear, his dark brown hair askew, her doubt grew stronger, for it seems unlikely that such a one as that would have caused so great a cataclysm. Or he just might be a great actor, she reminded herself. They had no other suspects.

She did not reveal any of this to him, nor would he have noticed, for he was still staring at the Rift in shock. “We call it the Breach,” she said, a little loudly. His head snapped to her. “It’s a massive rift in the world of demons, which grows larger with each passing hour. It’s not the only rift. Just the largest. All were caused by the explosion of the Conclave.” Then she nodded to him to follow her and started walking away.

He stumbled forward and tried to keep up with her. “An explosion did that?”

“This one did. Unless we act, it may grow until it swallows the world.”

A sharp thunderclap and he fell forward on his knees, clutching his glowing hand. She went to help him up. “Each time the Breach expands, your mark spreads.” He looked up at her, eyes filled with pain and she softened. “And they are killing you. You may be the key to stopping this, but there isn’t much time.”

“The key to what?”

“Closing the Breach. Whatever that’s possible is something we shall discover shortly. It is our only chance, however. And yours.”

She brought him on his feet. As he stumbled through the snow, he asked her again. “You still think I’m responsible? That I did this to myself?”

“Not intentionally. Something clearly went wrong. Perhaps you are not responsible, but someone is and you are the only suspect. If you wish to prove your innocence, this is the only way.”

“And the only way to cure myself, you say,” he answered. “First you give me hope then threaten me. You humans are so strange.”

“Will you come or not?” she asked sharply.

He expelled a ragged breath, hands on knees, then looked up at her. “I don’t have a choice, do I?”

For some reason, he saw she was not pleased with his answer. She led him through the crowd below, the people parting before them, eyeing him suspiciously. At once he tried to appear non-threatening, obediently following the human woman, used to them eyeing him with distrust and knowing that once they had seen him enough he would be able to disappear later. To them, an elf is like any other elf. Always a servant.

“They have decided your guilt,” Cassandra explained about the stares. “They need it. The people of Haven mourn our most Holy, the Divine Justinia, head of the Chantry. The conclave was hers.”

So this is Haven? He didn’t recognized it at first. It was changed so much and the Divine of the Chantry didn’t ring any bells.

Cassandra continued speaking but this time her voice rose with emotion. “It was a chance of peace between mages and templars! And now…they are dead.” When he heard the mages and templars, he finally remembered why he was here.

“So the war is over then?”

“It appears so. There are still fighting in some places but most of the leaders are dead.” They reached the bridge called the Penitent’s Crossing, and stood before the guardhouse. Suddenly, Cassandra drew her dagger, and to the shocked whispers of the soldiers around them, cut his bonds. “There will be a trial, I can promise no more. Come, it is not far.” She shouted for the gate to be open and led him through.

“What trial?”

“Your marks must be tested on something smaller than the breach. We are heading into the valley of the Sacred Ashes where a smaller rifts I mentioned is found there. We will see if your marks will dispel it.”

“And how is that going to prove my innocence exactly?”

“That is only to test your mark. Your innocence will be proven after. Or perhaps you have recovered enough of your wits and we can go back to your cell and try you now?”  

“Ah no, I don’t know…I still don’t remember anything,” he answered, putting a hand on his brow and wobbling slightly. “Perhaps I should try dispelling the rift first? It would help calm the people back there too.”

“As you wish.”

They continued trudging upwards, seeing flaming things on the way. It looked like they were used to form a barricade. He wondered for a moment what for when something came crashing down the sky . “It’s like the end of the world!” he cried out, seeing another hurtling down.

“Not if we can help it,” Cassandra answered.

He was about to ask her plan, but his hand sent him again to his knees.

“The pulses are coming faster now. The larger the Breach grows, the more rifts appear, the more demons we face.”

“Demons? What are the demons for?”

“Because of the rift. They stepped out of it, as you did.”

He stood up and forgot his pain for a moment. “Me?”

“Yes. After the blast, a rift appeared and you stepped out of it, with an unknown woman behind you.”

He rubbed his head. There’s a lot he doesn’t understand here. “A woman. Yes, I remember a woman. But I can’t remember who she is. I just remember her reaching her hand out to me…” For some reason, his reply made her look at him oddly. “What?”

She shook her head, as if to shake off some troubling thoughts. “Nothing. Let’s go. We’re wasting time.” She turned to lead when suddenly, another ball came hurtling out the sky, breaking the bridge apart and sending them tumbling down below.


	2. Chapter 2

They hit the frozen river along with some rubble. He winced but she sprang up, drawing her sword and shield. Because another ball hit the ground close to them, spewing demons.

“Stay behind me!” she commanded as she charged at the shades. He scrambled away. Another ball hit close by and a pair of shades emerged. With her preoccupied, it would be easy to slip away, far away from her and from all the accusing glances of these shemlens. After all, he had no obligation with this people, and he knew that once the humans took notice of you, they will never let you go until they are satisfied. But as he saw her fighting the demons alone, while the other demons are closing in on her, he knew he couldn’t leave like that.

He looked around until he saw a couple of knives from an overturned chest and attacked. While she drew their attention, he encricled, seeking prey, then burying his daggers on unsuspecting backs. He slipped away into the shadows, out their reach, only for Cassandra to lop their heads off. With a ghostly screams they disappeared into the ground. He thought they were finished only to find Cassandra’s blade resting beside his neck.

“Drop your weapons! Now!” she said. He cursed himself inwardly. He knew he should have run for it when he had the chance.

“I’m dropping it, I’m dropping it!” he said, spreading his hands, his weapons falling and cluttering on the ice. “But what should I do if the demons attack me? Chew on them?”

She thought for a moment on the absurdity of her request and conceeded. “I…I cannot protect you. And I cannot expect you to be defenseless.” She drew back her sword and sheathed it. “I should remember that you agree to come willingly. You could have run while I fought the demons and instead you stayed to help me.” She rummaged through her pouch and produced some vials. “Here take this,” she said, throwing it to him. He pitched forward and caught them.

“Maker knows what we’ll face.”

They continued the trek upwards, to more snow and flames. The path was marked with many prints and the snow was churned dark. He looked around and realized what was missing. “Where is everybody?”       

“If you meant the soldiers, they’re either at the forward camp or fighting. For the moment, we are on our own.”

“What are they doing at the forward camp?”

She did not answer, for there were more demons ahead. The snow turned dark again at each skirmish. On their path, they saw the bodies of fallen soldiers. He saw it had affected Cassandra hard, for she spurned them on faster towards a building. He pricked his ears forward and heard metal on flesh, spells whizzing and some odd sound, like cloth whipping against the wind.

Cassandra was far ahead and she shouted. “Wer’re getting close to the rift. You can hear the fighting.”

“Who’s fighting?” he asked. He couldn’t see it as the building was over the hill, above them.

“You’ll see soon enough. We have to help them.”

They ran forward and reached the walls. Beyond it, some soldiers battled demons along with a bald elf mage and a dwarf wielding a crossbow. In the center, a ribbon of light hovered in mid air, twisting and turning, scattering rays of green light. With a snap like cloth to the wind, it spawned demons.

 Cassandra jumped down the wall and and ran towards the fighters.

“Ah, I see you have brought him. So you decided to trust me after all?” the mage asked Cassandra when she was near.

“We have no other choice. We have tried everything. We might as well try yours,” Cassandra replied.

“It was fortunate for us all that you considered my suggestion.” The elf held out his hand to him. “Quickly! Before more come through!”    

He ran toward him, unsure of what to do. But the mage seems to know what he was doing, for he grabbed his hand and directed his glowing palm towards the rift. At once, a ray shot out, connecting with his palm, seeming to absorb it, until with a crack it burst, the ray disintegrating, and the rift gone. Seeing this, the soldiers fought with renewed vigor, ensuring that all the demons were killed.

They stared at where the rift was for a moment then Cassandra asked the mage. “What did you do?”

“I did nothing,” the elf replied lightly, as if closing a rift was a simple task. “The credit is his,” he said, nodding at him. As the mage explained that there might be a relationship between the breach and the mark on his hand (other than color, perhaps?), he looked at him closely. The mage was bald, with no vallaslin and yet he did not act like a city elf. A city elf would have showed more deference talking to a human. And he would have taken credit for closing the rift. He did neither.

“Meaning they could also help seal the Breach,” he heard Cassandra say.

“Indeed,” the mage nodded then turned towards him. “It seems you hold the key to our salvation,” he said, smiling.

“Good to know!” the dwarf exclaimed and joined them. He slung his crossbow and introduced himself. “Varric Tethras, at your service. Storyteller, and occassionally, unwelcome tagalong,” he said with a wink at Cassandra.

“You forgot rogue,” Cassandra reminded him.

Varric looked at her with mock exasperation. “Now, Seeker, let’s not spoil the surprise so early in the day.”

Fortunately for the dwarf, storyteller was the only thing that caught his attention. “A storyteller? Like in a clan?”

“Now, here’s one with good __manners__ ,” Varric said, with a look at Cassandra. Cassandra snorted and said “You can get acquainted later. Right now we had a job to do.”

“She’s right. I’m just a prisoner like you so why don’t we have our chat later when we’re back at our cosy little cells?”

“I brought you here to tell your story to the Divine,” Cassandra clarified in irritation. “Clearly that is no longer necessary.”

“Even with my client dead, I still need payment for my services, Seeker, especially when I was forced to come here all the way from Kirkwall. Travel abroad isn’t cheap, you know.”

“I can’t believe you’re asking for payment with all…this.” She waved at their surroundings, the collapsed walls and dead bodies.

“Actually, I only need your apology for my..troubles. Say it, and I’ll be on my way.”

Cassandra only made a disgusted noise.

He didn’t notice their bickering for his attention was riveted to the crossbow the dwarf was holding. “I never saw a bow like that before,” he said, leaning forward, eyes wide and ears pricked up in interest.

Varric smirked at him and held out the weapon for him to admire it further. “Isn’t she a beauty?” he crooned.

“She?”

“Say hello to Bianca. We’ve been through a lot together.”

“You named your crossbrow?”

“Of course. And she’ll be great company in the valley,” he said, tapping the handle affectionately.

“Absolutely not!” Cassandra interjected.

“Wait, I thought you said I was free? Free meaning I get to do what I want?”

“You help is appreciated Varric, but-”

“Have you been in the valley lately, Seeker? Your soldiers aren’t in control anymore. You need me.”

As Cassandra stalked off, leaving them in uncomfortable silence, the mage coughed. “My name is Solas, if introductions are to be made. I’m pleased to see that you still live,” he said to him.

“He meant “I kept that mark from killing you as you slept,” Varric translated.

“Thank you. You seem to know a great deal about it,” he said, which he saw made the mage happy.

“For an apostate, he seems well versed in such matters,” Cassandra said, suddenly returning.

“Technically, all mages are apostates now, Cassandra,” the mage replied, his good humour persisting depsite her accusations. “My travels have allowed me to learn much of the Fade, far beyond the experience of any Circle mage. I came to offer whatever help I can give with the Breach. If it is not closed, we are all doomed regardless of origin.”

“Truer words have never been spoken,” the dwarf said.

“Cassandra, you should know that the magic involved here is unlike any I have seen,” Solas continued. Your prisoner is no mage; indeed I find it difficult to imagine any mages having such power.”

Cassandra thought for a minute, her eyes settling on him and nodded. “Understood,” she answered and started to lead the way down. He tried to follow her but the dwarf held him up. “Hold on, we never knew your name. I doubt it’s __You__ , as Cassandra keeps saying,” Varric said. “You’re Dalish aren’t you?”

“Did the vallaslin gave it away?”

“Nah. Some city elves have it. But your mentioning a clan gave it away. So, who would you be, stranger?”

“Eanilanon Lavellan”

Varric looked up at him for a second, brow raised. “Huh. That’s….quite a mouthful.”    

* * *

They reached the forward camp, where Lelianna was arguing with a man garbed in Chantry robes. When they came near, Lelianna was relieved. “You made it. Chancellor Roderick, this is-” she tried to say but the man cut her off. “I know who he is”. With all the righteous indignation he can muster, he said to Cassandra “As Grand Chancellor of the Chantry, I hereby order you to take this criminal-” pointing at him, “to Val Royeaux to face execution.”

Cassandra did like that. She did the demanding, not the taking. “Order me? You are a glorified clerk-a bureaucrat!” she spat.

“And you are a thug,” he shot back, “but a thug who supposedly serves the Chantry!”

“We serve the Most Holy, Chancellor as you well know,” Leliana intervened before the two go at each other like fishwives in the docks.

“Justinia is dead!” he reminded them all. “We must elect a replacement and obey her orders on the matter!”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Varric said, “but shouldn’t you all be concerned with that hole in the sky?”

Chancellor Roderick pointed at the elf. “He brought this on us in the first place!”

“How would you know? You surely weren’t at the temple during the explosion,” Solas observed.

The chancellor ignored them and turned to Cassandra. “Call off the retreat, Seeker. Our position here is hopless.”

“We must get to the temple to stop this before it’s too late,” she replied.

The chancellor scoffed. “How? You won’t survive long enough to reach the temple even with all your soldiers.”

“They can if they take the mountain path while our forces serve as a distraction,” Leliana suggested.

“We lost an entire squad on that path. It’s too risky. Listen to me. Abandon this now before more lives are lost,” Roderick insisted.

Cassandra had enough of him and suddenly turned to the prisoner. “What do you think we should do?”

He’s surprised. “Why’re you asking me? I’m just your prisoner, as he said.”

“We are in disagreement. You bear the mark, and you’re the one we need to protect. Your life will be at risk. It’s better to risk it at the place of your choice, is it not? ”

Lavellan thought for a moment and did as she asked. “Could we go through the mountains? We’d arrive faster at the temple and be done before more people die.”

His reply did not please Cassandra. She would have preferred to go directly at the problem, together with everyone, not skulking about like a thief. But she accepted his decision well enough. “Leliana, bring everyone left in the valley. Everyone,” she ordered.

The place was filled with calls for arms.  


	3. Chapter 3

They found the patrol, not all of them alive. Still, those who survived thanked their timely arrival and directed them to the temple.

“The temple of Sacred Ashes. Or what’s left of it,” Varric commented as they arrived at the ruins. Days had passed since the explosion but the place was still in flames. Lavellan stared in shock at the petrified bodies, frozen mid-run, forever in agony.

“This is where you walked out the Fade and our soldiers found you,” Cassandra said, cutting through his thoughts. “They said a woman was in a rift behind you. No one knows who she was.”

They dropped down farther into the temple where Leliana met them with her group. Further on, they saw a rift. “This rift is the first and is the key. Seal it and perhaps we seal the Breach,” Solas said. Cassandra instructed her colleague to order her men around the place before turning to ask him. “This is your chance to end this. Are you ready?”

“I think so.”

“Then let’s find a way down.”

As they trudged their way to the bottom, a deep voice boomed. “ _ _Now is the hour of our victory. Bring forth the sacrifice__.”

“What are we hearing?” Cassandra asked, looking around in alarm.

“At a guess: the person who created the Breach,” Solas answered.

Meanwhile, Varric was staring at the giant red crystals all around them. “You know this stuff is red lyrium, Seeker,” he asked Cassandra, his teeth gritted.

“I see it, Varric.”

“But what it’s doing here?”

“Magic could have drawn on lyrium beneath the temple, corrupted it,” Solas said.

 The dwarf looked at it one last time, shivered and gingerly moved away from the crystals. “It’s evil. Whatever you do don’t touch it.”

The deep voice boomed again.

“ _ _Keep the sacrifice still__.”

“ _ _Someone help me!__ ”

“That is Divine Justinia’s voice!” Cassandra exclaimed.

__“What’s going on here?”_ _

Everyone turned to him. “That was your voice,” Cassandra said. “Most Holy called out to you. But-”

White light flashed, then ghostly images appeared. Above them, Divine Justinia was floating, being held in place by red energy wrapped around her arms. A large dark figure with glowing red eyes loomed before her. Then the door opened and a head poked in.

It was Lavellan. “What’s going on here?” he asked.

 _ _“Run while you can! Warn them!”__ Justinia cried to his ghost.

“ _ _We have an intruder__ ,” the dark figure said. “ _ _Kill him. Now. Slay the elf!__ ”

Light flashed again and the ghostly images disappeared.

Cassandra turned to the elf. “You were there! Who attacked? And the Divine, is she…? Was this vision true? What are we seeing?”

“I don’t know. I don’t remember any of that.”

“Echoes of what happened here. The Fade bleeds into this place,” Solas guessed. “This rift is not sealed, but it is closed… albeit temporarily. I believe with the mark, the rift can be opened and then sealed properly and safely. However, opening the rift will likely attract attention from the other side.”

“That means demons. Stand ready!” Cassandra said and drew her sword. She nodded at Lelianna who ordered the soldiers and archers to get ready.

“Now!”

Lavellan reached out his hand and opened the rift.


	4. Chapter 4

The people at Haven rejoiced as the sickly green light at the ruins went out.

* * *

Lavellan woke up in bed in a rustic cabin and sat up, startling a young elven woman who dropped the box she was carrying.

“Oh! I didn’t know you were awake, I swear!” she said, dropping a knee to him.

“Why are you frightened? What happened?” he asked her groggily, as she trembled, kneeling. Afer a few minutes, memory returned. After he opened the rift, a pride demon stepped out. They had to defeat it first in order to close the rift properly. This he did and he remembered all of it, unlike the last time. Although it would have been better if he had not fainted again.

 “I beg your forgiveness and your blessing. I am but a humble servant. You’re back in Haven, my lord. They say you saved us. The breach stopped growing, just like the mark on your hand. It’s all anyone has talked about for the last three days!”

“They’re….pleased?”

“I’m only saying what I heard. I don’t mean anything by it,” she stammered before standing up and backing away from him. “I’m sure Lady Cassandra will want to know you’ve wakened. She said ‘at once’!”

“And where is she?”

“In the Chantry with the Lord Chancellor. 'At once,’ she said!” Without another word, she bolted out of the room.

He can’t really blame her for running. If a human takes interest in one of them, it’s quite better to not be found close to that person. He sighed and dressed, thinking that with what had the chancellor threatened, he would have expected to be back at his cell. But what awaited him outside was much worse.

As he walked towards the chantry, he glanced around uneasily as the people gathered around his path, like vultures on a creature about to die.

“That’s him. That’s the Herald of Andraste. They said when he came out of the Fade, Andraste herself was watching over him,” a man whispered.

“Hush!. We shouldn’t disturb him,” the woman at his side said. Soon, more voices were raised.

“-Why did Lady Cassandra have him in chains? I thought Seekers knew everything.”

“-It’s complicated. We were all frightened after the explosion at the Conclave.”

“-It isn’t complicated. Andraste herself blessed him.”

“-Maker be with you.”

“-Blessings upon you, Herald of Andraste.”

“-That’s him. He stopped the Breach from getting any bigger.”

“-I heard he was supposed to close it entirely. Still, it’s more than anyone else has done. Demons would have had us otherwise.”

“-Still a lot of Rifts left all over. Little cracks in the sky.”

“-He can seal those, though – the Herald of Andraste.”

“-Someone had better. You won’t seal those rifts with the Chant of Light.”

“-Walk safely, Herald of Andraste.”

“-Good luck sealing those rifts.”

And then a curious thing happened. Soldiers saw him and saluted. Chantry sisters looked at him and kneeled.

It was very unnerving. He suppressed the urge to shiver beneath their stares and quickened his pace towards the Chantry.


	5. Chapter 5

Inside the building, he heard the Chancellor arguing with Cassandra and Lelianna. He insisted that he be brought to Val Royeaux but Cassandra disagreed. she does not believe he was not guilty of the explosion and reminded him of their duties to the Chantry.

He stopped short of the door and backed away, slowly. Then he hit something. He turned around and found guards accompanying him.

"Seeker Cassandra asked for you, sir," the soldier quietly said.

"You don't say," he answered weakly, and allowed himself to be led in.

When they saw him come in, accompanied by guards, the chancellor immediately ordered them to bind him.

“Disregard that, and leave us,” Cassandra said. The soldiers saluted at her, showing their allegiance to her rather than the chancellor. When they left, Roderick glared at her. “You walk a dangerous line, Seeker,” he warned

“The Breach is stable, but it is still a threat. I will not ignore it,” Cassandra replied stubbornly.

“Can I say something?” Lavellan said, looking at the two of them. He immediately regretted it, as he felt all of their eyes on him. There’s nothing he could do about it now so he cleared his throat and began. “We all saw I have nothing to do with the explosion. So can I go now?”

“Absolutely not! I’m not entirely convinced you have nothing to do with the Divine’s death!” the chancellor said.

“He is not a suspect anymore,” Cassandra insisted.

Lelianna spoke up. “Someone was behind the explosion at the Conclave. Someone Most Holy did not expect. Perhaps they died with the others – or have allies who yet live,” she said, with a look at the Chancellor.

The man looked back at her, shocked. “ _ _I__  am a suspect?”

“You, and many others.”

“But not the prisoner.”

“I heard the voices in the temple. The Divine called to him for help,” Cassandra said.

“So his survival, that thing on his hand – all a coincidence?” the man asked.

“Providence,” she corrected him. “The Maker sent him to us in our darkest hour.”

Lavellan had enough of their craziness. He waved a hand to get their attention. “I just want to say: I’m Dalish.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Cassandra replied.

“Oh, good. So wouldn’t your god send someone not…me? Not Dalish I mean?”  
“I cannot dictate what the Maker wills. And besides, humans are not the only people with an interest in the fate of the world.”  
“The Breach remains and your mark is our only hope of closing it,” Leliana added.

“This is not for you to decide,” Roderick snapped at her.

Suddenly, Cassandra slammed a thick, heavy book down on the table, startling them all. “You know what this is, Chancellor?” she asked Roderick. “A writ from the Divine, granting us authority to act. As of this moment, I declare the Inquisition reborn.” She walked towards the Chancellor, who retreated at her advance until he hit the wall. “We will close the Breach, we will find those responsible, and we will restore order with or without your approval,” she informed him, poking him as she made each point for emphasis.

Roderick looked at them all for support. When they just looked back and said nothing, he wiggled out away from her and left without a word.

They watched him go, closing the door behind him, then Leliana spoke again. “This is the Divine’s directive: Rebuild the Inquisition of old. Find those who will stand against the chaos. We aren’t ready. We have no leader, no numbers, and now no Chantry support.”

“But we have no choice: We must act now. With you at our side,” Cassandra said to him.

Lavellan blinked a few times. “What is this Inquisition of old?”

“It preceded the Chantry: People who banded together to restore order in a world gone mad,” Lelianna supplied.   
“After, they laid down their banner and formed the Templar Order. But the Templars have lost their way. We need those who can do what must be done united under a single banner once more,” Cassandra added.

“But you already have your own people to lead you. The Chantry,  I mean.”

“The Chantry will take time to find a new Divine, and then it will wait for her direction,” Leliana answered.  
“But we cannot wait. So many grand clerics died at the conclave… No, we are on own own. Perhaps forever,” Cassandra said. “And you have the mark on your hand. You are still involved, whether you wish it or not.”

He definitely doesn’t wish it. He has already been involved too much in these humans’ affairs. “What if I refuse?”  
“You can go, if you wish,” Leliana said.   
“You should know that while some believe you chosen, many still think you guilty,” Cassandra warned. “The Inquisition can only protect you if you are with us. It will not be easy if you left, but you cannot pretend this has not changed you. Help us fix this before it’s too late.”

He could not go home now. He was dying to be with his clan and tell his mother what all these crazy shemlens were trying to make him do but he could not do so now. Now that he has this mark on his hand and a target on his back. She was right, no doubt that chancellor isn’t the only one who thinks he was responsible for the explosion. Even if he denied it, what good would an elf’s word be? They’ll wring a confession out of him. And if he managed to escape to his clan, it’d be useless for everyone knew his name already. Someone would track his clan down and blame them. By returning to his clan now, he’ll only be bringing back a war they could not afford to have.  

Oh, what was he in this time?

“Alright, if it would help all of us,” he said reluctantly. Cassandra was pleased with him at last and shook his hand. When she released him, he said “But I need to go outside, first.”


	6. Chapter 6

Varric found him on the storage room, chewing elfroots by the dozens. “Hey, I thought I’d find you here,” he said, startling the elf great enough to spit the plants out. “What’s happening? Some saw you bolt out the Chantry looking…troubled. Then I see Curly over there nailing paper to the Chantry doors and Cassandra’s strolling around with a banner like she’s beaten up some guy. Then everything went dark and some shit appeared over the sky.”

“What appeared over the sky?”

“I don’t know. Tripped myself looking at it and then was too busy finding my way in the dark. So are you alright? Did the Seeker threaten you?” he asked, taking pity on the Dalish elf, so far away from his clan and probably bewildered with so many humans around.

“No. Yes. I mean not directly. She said some people are going to look for me to kill me if I refused.”

“Refused what?”

“Refused to be the leader of…. whatever they’re planning.”

Varric looked around. “So that’s why I keep hearing people call you the Herald of Andraste.”

“That’s just it: I’m not what they say I am!”

“Are you sure? I thought you said you don’t remember much?”

“I did, yes, but that’s not the point. Surely, if these humans’ prophet had appeared to me and told me to lead these people, I would’ve known, right? I would’ve refused and I would remember that.” The dwarf just stared confusedly at him. “You’re on their side,” he accused him.

“I’m not. I know the Seeker isn’t the most harmless of people but what exactly did she say to you?”

He told the dwarf what he was forced to agree. Varric raised his brow at him. “So you go from being the most wanted criminal in Thedas to joining the armies of the faithful? Wow. Most people would have spread that out over more than one day.”

“This isn’t funny.”

“I know. I assure you you have my sympathy with what you’re going through.”

Lavellan looked despondently at the ground. “I have no idea what’s happening anymore.”  
“That makes two of us. For days now, we’ve been staring at the Breach, watching demons and Maker-knows-what fall out of it. ‘Bad for morale’ would be an understatement. I still can’t believe anyone was in there and lived.”

“If it was that bad, why did you stay? Cassandra said you were free to go.”

Varric shrugged. “I like to think I’m as selfish and irresponsible as the next guy, but this… Thousands of people died on that mountain. I was almost one of them. And now there’s a hole in the sky. Even I can’t walk away and just leave that to sort itself out.”

“I’m still not sure I believe that any of this is really happening.”

“If this is all just the Maker winding us up, I hope there is a damn good punch line coming. By the way, you might want to consider running at the first opportunity. I’ve written enough tragedies to recognize where this is going. Heroes are everywhere. I’ve seen that. But the hole in the sky? That’s beyond heroes.” Varric looked through the window at the sky, where the Breach hovered over them. “We’re going to need a miracle.”

* * *

 

Varric dropped him off before the Chantry doors, telling him that he had enough of the Seeker for one day. As the door closed behind him, he rubbed his hand, where the mark glowed cheerily, unsympathetic to his plight.

“Does it trouble you?”

Cassandra stepped out behind a pillar, apparently waiting for him. He fought the urge to jump.  

“I just wish I knew what it was. Or how I got it,” he answered, dropping the hand as she approached.  
“We will find out,” she said confidently and gestured to him the way. As they walked to the war room, she continued. “What’s important is that your mark is now stable, as is the Breach. You’ve given us time, and Solas believes that a second attempt might succeed – provided the mark has more power. The same level of power used to open the Breach in the first place. That is not easy to come by.”  
They entered the War Room, where Leliana and two strangers are waiting.

“May I present Commander Cullen, leader of the Inquisition’s forces,” Cassandra introduced the human man, who bowed. He has a handsome face, with strong brows, brown eyes, firm jaw and curly blond hair pulled back stiffly away from his face. A scar ran down the side of his mouth, which should have detracted from his appearance but only served to enhance it. He was clad in armor with the emblem of sword and sun and a great fur collar enveloping his wide shoulders.

"We lost many soldiers in the valley, and I fear many more before this is through,” Cullen said.

“This is Lady Josephine Montilyet, our ambassador and chief diplomat,” Cassandra said and the woman smiled at him. She was dark-skinned and dark eyed, her hair arranged in an elegant coif with a braid over her head. She was clad mostly in rich clothes of gold and purple and her smooth hands held a ledger and a quill.  

“Andaran Atish'an,” Josephine greeted.

He was surprised. So few humans value elven words, much less take the trouble to learn it. “You speak elven?”

She giggled. “You’re just heard the entirety of it, I’m afraid.”

Cassandra continued the introductions. “And of course you know Sister Leliana.”

“My position here involves a degree of-”

“She is our spymaster,” the Seeker said bluntly.

“Yes. Tactfully put, Cassandra,” Leliana said with a look at her.

Lavellan looked over them all. “You all have these big titles and here I am not bringing one.”

“You have the mark. That is enough. But it needs more power to close the Breach for good,” Cassandra said.

“Which means we must approach the rebel mages for help,” Leliana suggested.

“And I still disagree. The Templars could serve just as well,” Cullen said.

Leliana and Cullen argued about the merits of both their factions, but Josephine interrupted them with the bad news. “Unfortunately, neither group will even speak to us yet. The Chantry has denounced the Inquisition – and you, specifically,” she said, addressing Lavellan. “Some are calling you – a Dalish elf – the 'Herald of Andraste.’ That frightens the Chantry. The remaining Clerics have declared it blasphemy, and we heretics for harboring you.”

Cassandra snorted. “Chancellor Roderick’s doing, no doubt.”

“It limits our options. Approaching the mages or templars for help is currently out of the question.”

This is too much to take in. “Hold on. I have to ask: I keep hearing myself called the 'Herald of Andraste’ outside. How did that happen?”  
“People saw what you did at the temple, how you stopped the Breach from growing. They have also heard about the woman seen in the rift when we first found you. They believe that was Andraste,” the Seeker explained.   
Lelianna tried to support her. “Even if we tried to stop that view from spreading–”  
“-Which we have not.”  
“The point is, everyone is talking about you.” She expects him to feel honored, as is Cullen. “It’s quite the title, isn’t it? How do you feel about that?” he asked him.

He just felt bewildered of it all. “I’m no herald of anything. Particularly Andraste.”   
“I’m sure the Chantry would agree,” the commander tactfully replied.  
“People are desperate for a sign of hope. For some, you’re that sign,” Leliana said hopefully but Josephine was less so. “And to others, a symbol of everything that’s gone wrong.”

“Aren’t they concerned about the Breach? Dropping demons and what else?”   
“They do know that it is a threat, they just don’t think we can stop it,” Cullen said.   
“The Chantry is telling everyone that you’ll make it worse,” Josephine added.  
“There is something you can do. A Chantry Cleric by the name Mother Giselle has asked to speak to you. She is not far, and knows those involved far better than I. Her assistance could be invaluable,” Leliana suggested.

“Why would someone from the Chantry help us when the rest are calling us heretics?”   
“I understand she is a reasonable sort. Perhaps she doesn’t agree with her sisters? You’ll find Mother Giselle tending to the wounded in the Hinterlands near Redcliffe.”

“And you can look for other opportunities to expand the Inquisition’s influence while you’re there,” Cullen suggested.

“We need agents to extend our reach beyond this valley, and you’re better suited than anyone to recruit them,” Josephine added.

“In the meantime, let’s think of other options. I won’t leave this all to the Herald. In fact, I will accompany him, if he wishes,” Cassandra said.

So many things to do, with his jailor tagging along. This could not be off to a better start.


	7. Chapter 7

Before they could go completely out of Haven, a courier came running after them. “Excuse me sir,” the man panted. “Sister Nightingale asked to give this to you,” he said to Lavellan, handing a scroll. He opened it and found it contained a list of things. “She said that those items can be used to increase our influence with the people in Ferelden. If you find anything on that list on your travels, you can turn it over to a scout in our camps, Master Enilalon… Eanilala-“

“You can call him Herald before you swallow your tongue,” Varric suggested, feeling pity on the poor man.

The man gulped. “Of course, Master Tethras. As you say,” he said and scurried away.

When he was gone, they resumed their journey. “I’m not the Herald. I don’t want people calling me that,” Lavellan said to Varric.

“Alright. But what should we call you, then? As you can see, it's hard to call your name without our tongues twisting along the way.”

“You can call me Eanil. Everyone calls me that.”

“Alirght, Eanil.” Varric said, and then he peered up at him. “Personally, I think you’re a Feathers kind of guy,” he said, noting that the elf seems to have some fluff between the ears. To be fair, even Hawke has her moments.  

“Feathers?”

“How does that sound? Of course, that’s just between the two of us.”

He thought about the name and find he didn't mind. “Feathers is nice.”

“Then Feathers it is.”

* * *

They were somewhere in the Hinterlands, a vast, vaaaaaast place in Southern Ferelden where the only things of note are trees, trees and more trees. Also, bears.

“Can I ask something Varric?” Eanil asked the dwarf after the silence of traveling was too deafening.

The dwarf chuckled. “You want to talk about me? I’m flattered. Also inclined towards extravagant lies.”

“As I have observed,” Cassandra said behind them.

Varric turned his head in her direction. “Didn’t stop you from lapping it up.”

Cassandra snorted in reply.

“But why would you lie? Won’t people not want to believe you?”

Varric looked at him, unsure what to make of him. “Sometimes. I like to keep people on their toes. Besides, tell a big enough lie and people will leave you alone.”

“Are you alone?”

“My parents were long dead but I have a brother,” the dwarf said carefully. “I’m from the Free Marches. Born and raised in Kirkwall. And despite what you’ve heard, no, Kirkwall’s not that bad.”

“Oh, Kirkwall! I’ve been there before. Half the city’s falling in the sea but the people are charming.”

“Charming? How so?” He loves his city but he wouldn’t describe his fellow countrymen as charming.

“They’re got some of the fastest thieves I’ve ever seen. I’ve lost my bag from them one time. I only have roots in there, I’m afraid. I hope they’re not disappointed too much. But maybe they can use it in making rat stew, which is the best I’ve ever tasted from anywhere.”

The dwarf chuckled. “I knew I have a good feeling about you.”

“But what do you do? Are you a thief too?”

“Ah, no. I’m a businessman, a merchant. I buy and sell goods. In my spare time, I manage a spy network.”

“You have spies like…Leliana? But don’t people usually keep quiet about that?”

“Yes, but we have a Seeker with us. She would’ve pointed it out sooner or later, though I wouldn’t put much hope into that.”

“Must we do this again?” Cassandra asked in exasperation. “Besides, I wouldn’t need to watch you if you’re a good man.”

“I’ve seen people you would call a good man, Seeker. Can’t say I envy your taste.” Cassandra snorted again in reply. “But where was I? Ah, yes. I also write books. My most popular, Hard in Hightown. Guards breaking the rules to get things done. The tale of the Champion is the famous thing I’ve written. Or infamous, maybe. I started a romance serial, Sword and Shields, but I didn’t really have the knack for it.”

As if noticing something, Cassandra turned her head away, her cheeks flushed. It must be hot walking around in armor under the midday sun. Following her lead, he cocked his ear and listened. Faintly, he heard the ring of blade on blade, spells flying, and cries of pain and anger.

“This way!” he called to them. The others followed him, bewildered, hearing nothing of what he heard. He pressed forward, until he came to a clearing overlooking a great valley.

The beautiful valley was marred by the fighting. Trees burned, wagons scattered and broken, the mud churning with blood, as mages and templars fought and bodies fell into the mire. They went down and fought through them; Solas vainly telling the mages to stop fighting because they meant no harm and Cassandra shouting at the templars to drop their weapons. Failing to halt the fighting, they continued on to the crossroads; a sanctuary for the wounded but besieged by both sides. They liberated it and with reinforcements have secured it so no rogue mage or templar ever disturbed the peace within.

On a veranda of a dilapidated house, they found a Chantry Mother tending a wounded soldier. As a healer approached him, the soldier screamed at him to get away, cursing his magic. The Mother beside him soothed him, reminded him that their magic is being used for a noble purpose and is no more evil than his blade. The soldier tried to protest, but the Mother allayed his fears until finally he let the mage heal him.

“Hush, dear boy. Allow them to ease your suffering,” the Mother comforted him.

If there is any other who can help and ease the people’s minds despite all the chaos around them, it would be her.

“Mother Giselle?” Eanil asked, stepping forward.

The woman stood up and looked at them, her dark eyes and face betraying nothing of her thoughts. She bade them to come nearer.

“You must be the one they’re calling the Herald of Andraste,” she said to him.

He brushed his hand in his hair. “Yes. I told them not to but they keep calling me that.”

She chuckled. “We seldom have any choice of late, I’m sad to say.”

“You mean this?” He waved at the damaged buildings, the wounded groaning on the pallets, and the uninjured sitting quietly, weariness in their eyes. “I would have expected you far from the fighting. Not many people would like to listen to reason when at war.”

“And yet this is where I am most needed. And I have to see whether you are the person you claim to be.”

“Your Reverence, you meant to say you went here just to test him?” Cassandra asked, surprised at her ploy.

“I am here to help people but yes,” she replied to the Seeker then turned back to him. “So many people would have taken advantage of this chaos to raise themselves up and gain power. If you truly were sent to help us and not merely pretending, then surely you would not mind risking your safety to save these people?”

“I understand. I know being this ‘Herald of Andraste’ thing is hard to believe. We just passed by people who believed the Breach’s is your god’s way of taking the faithful to his side.”

She gestured to a garden, away from the wounded and led them. “I have heard of the Chantry’s denouncement,” she continued when they were out of earshot of anyone else, “and I am familiar with those behind it. I won’t lie to you, some of them are grandstanding, hoping to increase their chances of being the next Divine. Some are simply terrified. With no divine, we are only guided by our conscience and some have fallen from this.”

"But you’re not like them.”

She nodded. “I have to see you for myself and here we are. But the others do not have my means so you must go to them. Convince the remaining clerics you are no demon to be feared. They have only heard frightening tales of you. Give them something else to believe.”

“But I heard the other clerics seemed determined not to trust me.”

“They do not all think like that. You need not convince them all. All you need is to sow doubt. Their power is their unified voice. Take that from them and you will receive the help you need.”

“And what would you do, then? Are you going to stay here?”

“My work here is done. I will go to Haven and I will write the letters to those who will be amenable to the Chantry. Sister Lelianna can send them for me. It’s not much, but I will do what I can.”

“Thank you, Your Reverence,” Cassandra replied.

She nodded at her and turned to him. “I honestly don’t know if you’ve been touched by fate but I hope….hope is what we need right now. They will listen to your rallying call as they will listen to no other.”

* * *

“It occurs to me that I don’t really know so much about you,” Cassandra said one day as they trudged around the HInterlands, going from farm to farm and closing rifts. “I know you are a Dalish elf. But where did you come from?”

He gets nervous whenever Cassandra gets curious. She has a rather unfortunate tendency of threatening people when she doesn’t get what she asking for.

“You…don’t know?”

“I suppose I could ask Leliana. She has collected a frightening amount of information on you. But I don’t want to ask her. I want to hear it from you,” she said, with an earnestness that told him that she said it without malice.

__How very considerate of you.__ He did not say that aloud, though. Creators know what he’ll end up with that. Better he answer her now than she go around and ask the spymaster. Creators know what she’ll find out with that. “We’re Dalish. We’re never from anywhere, though last I know, my clan’s in the Free Marches.”

“Oh? I didn’t think your people roamed that far north, clearly I’m mistaken. I’m told some members of your clan might still be alive. Do you intend to go back?” she asked, swatting at a vine in her way.

“I might, once this is done.” _ _Surely they’ll allow him to go home once this is over?__

She nodded. “It will not be the same once you do.”

That brought him up short. He knew by now that the Seeker is a hard woman and after all he’d been through in her hands, he never expected her to be genuinely concerned about him. He did not know how to answer her. But fortunately, there was someone with him who experienced the same thing from her but is much quicker in wits.

“Oh, look at that. I didn’t know you have feelings, Seeker,” Varric said behind them.

Cassandra turned around and frowned at the dwarf. “Something you would have known, had you not keep needling me about every little thing.”

“I’m just checking whether you have a conscience, like humans do.” She sputtered in outrage, but he was done talking to her. “So, how did you end up here?” he asked him. “As far as I know, the Dalish doesn't seem to like going near somewhere with a lot of humans. But here you were at the Conclave, with plenty of humans about."

“It’s not strange at all,” he answered, his mood brightening. “You see, when humans start gathering together, we get nervous. Even it was just about their own problems, sometimes we get involved even if we had nothing to do with it. I mean, look at the war between Templars and mages. Humans think they’re the only ones suffering, but we do too.”

Cassandra was about to defend humanity in their behalf but a look from the dwarf stopped her. She frowned, but when she observed how the elf becomes more talkative if it was not her who was asking, she held her tongue.

“Back then, we thought we’re free from humans if we just avoid the cities. But with these wars, the wilderness is full of them.” He whipped a way a weed in his path. “We go hungry a lot, because all game had been chased away by the fighting. We can’t even trap them because we can’t predict how they’ll act anymore. And we have to be very careful when we’re travelling to avoid accidentally meeting a mage or templar camp who would have killed us on sight.”

“This war is really tough on everyone,” Varric commiserated.

“So when my clan heard about the Conclave, they sent me to find out what the humans are planning.”

“So you were spying?” Cassandra finally interrupted.

“I wasn’t spying! the Dalish don’t spy,” he said defensively.

“But you just said you were sent here to watch us.”

“The Dalish don’t intentionally spy.”

She looked at him, as if deciding to trust him. “I’ll accept that, for the moment. But how did you meet Divine Justinia? There’s a long way between you watching the Conclave and you emerging after the explosion. As I know, the Conclave was held in the hall, and only mages, Templars or Seekers are allowed inside. You are neither. And only certain people are admitted inside the Most Holy’s quarters. So how did you do it?”

 “I…asked the servants to show me around?”

“Servants? Only clerks are allowed inside the temple.”

“Yes I meant them. Clerks.”

“And they just did that with you, a non-believer, just like that?”

“I’m…..charming! And adorable!”

She imagined the clerks fawning over this elf, agreeing to his every wish. She dismissed it as too ridiculous. “I find that hard to believe. Just how did you meet Divine Justinia?”

“Back off, Seeker. Shouldn’t you just be grateful that someone came by to save her just in time?” Varric interrupted, noticing Eanil's increasing discomfort at being interrogated again by Cassandra.

“But she was not saved! This is a matter of security, Varric. We still don’t know who the intruder was and how he got past through our defenses. I do not want this to be repeated again. And from what we heard at the temple, the intruder had help. If there was a conspiracy to kill the Divine, the participants must be found and brought to justice.”

“They’re probably dead with the rest of the people inside,” the dwarf answered bluntly. “I can’t believe you’re suspecting the person who’s trying to save us of causing the explosion and killing the Divine.”

“I am not making accusations here, Varric. Solas said he could not have done it. I am only trying to learn how the explosion happened . He might have entered the Divine’s quarters the same way the intruders had and finding out how will rule out many suspects.” Before Varric could think of a retort, she continued interrogating him. “How did you get past the guards?”

“I didn’t. I went through a window.”

“Which window?”

“The window on the top?”

She fell silent for a moment, remembering that that window was located six stories high. “That window’s too high up.”

“I climbed trees taller than that.”

She checked when she realized he was nimbler than she thought. “So you climbed. Then what?”

“I..went and watched the mages and Templars talk with… each other.”

She just stared at him.

“Alright. Fine. I never went inside the hall because I went inside the study.”

“The Divine's study? Why? What made you go there?”

“To read. What else should I be doing there?”

“You climbed a window at the top of the building just so you can read a book?”

“Hey! It was a good book. I never knew there was so much to know in building a house.”

“Alright. Then?”

“Then I heard someone scream for help. So I went out to find out what was happening and opened a door.”

“Then?”

He took a long time in replying. “I don’t remember what happened next. Last thing I knew, I woke up in a cell then you came in and here we are.”

She looked at him longer, trying to see if he was lying again. Even though he was squirming beneath her stare, she knew he was telling the truth when he said he couldn’t remember. “Yes, here we are. We are no further in this mystery,” she said, relenting.

“I’m sorry if I disappointed you,” he said, hurt.

“I didn’t mean-”

“There’s a lot you don’t mean, Seeker, and that gets old really fast. He’s done enough. So why don’t you leave him alone while he’s trying to save all our asses?”  

Cassandra wanted to tell him where he could shove his opinions, but seeing the animosity against her building in half the group, decided against it. It would not do to have a group turning against itself.

“Fine, Varric. I won’t bother him any longer,” she said and kept silent throughout the journey.

* * *


	8. Chapter 8

Cassandra noticed the growing animosity between her and Herald. He is cheerful as always, but whenever he introduces himself to the people they’re helping, there’s always a little epithet about her. Like now.

“We’re the Inquisition,” he said to Master Dennet. “I’m the Herald of Andraste, this is Varric,” the dwarf tipped his head, “Solas, and our human overlord, Cassandra.”

“It’s Seeker Cassandra.”

“Right. Whatever.”

Master Dennet only looked askance at them before talking about the problems of providing horses for the Inquisition.

Then at the crossroads, to the one needing rams to feed the people: “The Inquisition and the Mistress Supreme, Cassandra.”

To Recruit Belette: “The Inquisition and Cassandra “Fatal Fury” Pentaghast.”

To Recruit Whittle: “The Inquisition and Cassandra “The Ultimate WAAAAAAAAAARRRRrrior” PENtaghast.”

“It’s Seeker, Seeker Cassandra,” she said, her teeth gritted, to the person they were talking to who looks thoroughly confused by them. She told the Herald to stop doing that but then he kept doing it.

“Are you hearing this?” she asked the others. “The Herald needs to stop doing that.”

“I don’t know, Seeker. It’s pretty funny,” Varric said, trying to stifle his laughter.

“And it also seems to endear us to the people,” Solas added.

She looked around and found he was right. People were craning their necks to look at them, especially her. She turned away in embarrassment and irritation. “Ugh.”

So she waited until they reached Haven to confront him about it.

He was sitting on his desk reading the Canticles when she appeared like a monster from his nightmare.

“We need to talk,” she said, standing in the doorway to his quarters. He turned around from his chair, his mouth dropping open at the sight of her, then looked frantically at the window, judging whether he can escape out of it.

“About what happened at the Hinterlands,” she continued, stepping inside, a hand at the doorway, with a look that showed him that she knew about his thought to escape through the window and warned against it.

He crossed his arms. “We have nothing to talk about,” he said defensively.

“Yes, we do,” she insisted.

“Right. We don’t agree. So in a situation where two people don’t have an advantage over the other, I shall use one of the common measures to gain the upper hand.” Then he started screaming, “Help! Help! I’m being oppressed!”

“You’re none of that sort!” she snapped, shutting his bleating abruptly. “Maker, you’re the Herald of Andraste. Act like it.”

He started sulking so she asked him, softly but teeth gritted, “Don’t you think this pettiness has to stop?”

He pouted at her. “No.”

She squeezed her eyes shut and remembered that they need him and all this is for the greater good. “Fine. If I did anything to deserve this, I’m sorry. It was done unthinkingly.”

“No, you’re not.” He glared at her. “I don’t forgive you. You’re a monster. ”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

“You stab books and punch trees! They did nothing to you. How can you do that?” he accused her, looking completely serious.

“It’s not out of malice, I assure you,” she replied, looking completely baffled at the charge.

“And I don’t forget what you did to me back at the cell.”

“Oh, that.” Leliana had warned her that her…rough methods might bite her somewhere in the future. Apparently, it is happening now.

“I’m innocent and you accused me of blowing up the Conclave. Then you did those…things to me,” he ranted, miming shaking someone. “And you expect me to work with you like nothing’s happened.”

“I…am guilty of that, yes,” she admitted but looking like she was not entirely convinced of her guilt. “But please understand, I had been…carried away by what happened.”

He crossed his arms tighter and narrowed her eyes at her, asking her silently to explain further.  

“ I joined the Seekers of Truth as a young woman, and was with the Order until they withdrew from the Chantry. I remained as the Divine’s Right Hand. The Conclave contained the people I knew and care about-The Divine, some of my fellow Seekers, templars and mages.”

He looked at her in disbelief. “Mages? You care about mages?”

“I had a mage friend I met during one of my adventures when I was younger. Like all the others, he died there.”

“Oh.”

“What happened at the cell-it was not fair of me. I’m sorry. I suspected you of being the one behind the blast and tried to take out my loss on you. I knew now I should not have done it.”

“Oh,” he said, realizing that he truly is very petty. Besides, she looks so sad, he could not bear to be angry anymore. “Why didn’t you tell me earlier?” he asked, softly now.

“I didn’t want to talk about it yet. And with many things to be done, I felt it wasn’t a priority.”

He fell silent, looking like he might accept that explanation. “Well…do you need to talk about it further?”

“There’s no need. This is enough.”

He looked at her, she looked back at him. They looked at each other.

“Alright, I forgive you,” he said finally.

‘Thank you, Herald,” she said, sadness replacing her anger. She turned on her heel and left without a word.

He was left to reflect that there are other kinds of suffering, not just his own. And also, that suffering can be borne valiantly, without straying from purpose, and without complaint.

He wished she did not tell him. Because with this, it’d be harder to leave.

* * *

Back at the chantry, they were met by the advisers, saying that they have urgent news. At the sight of Cullen, Varric opened his arms wide and exclaimed, “Cullen! You’re also here? Why, you’re looking more handsome every time I see you.”

Cullen sighed deep. “Nice to meet you too, Varric,” he replied, wearily.

Varric turned to Eanil and said, “Well, me and Solas will be going then. Your advisers might have something to discuss with you in private.”

“I would like it if you both come with me.”

Varric raised his brow at him. “Uh, sure, but I don’t know how they feel about that,” he said, with a glance at the advisers.

“If this is what the Herald wished, then so be it,” Cassandra said in a chippy tone. Josephine was much more welcoming as she bade them join them.

At the meeting, Leliana spoke first. “First, a matter you would be highly interested, Herald,” she said and handed some scrolls over to him. “We received word from your clan inquiring about you. There’s also a letter addressed personally to you.” He didn’t show how this bothered him as she handed the papers over. Clearly, the Inquisition’s reach is growing, since even his clan has heard of them. Unfortunately, it also meant that no one is safe from Leliana’s agents. Unfortunate, as part of the reason he stayed here is to protect his clan, and their protection depends on no one knowing their whereabouts.

He noted that the keeper chose to write instead of sending someone to find more about him. He opened both letters, noting that the personal letter had been retied. Expertly, he added, but he knew it had been opened. The knot is different, despite their best efforts.   

“What should we tell them?” Leliana asked him when he finished reading.

“I’ll write to my mother that I’m fine and I’m working with you by choice.”

Leliana paused. “Your mother?”

“Yes. The keeper.”

“She’s probably worried about you,” Varric said softly.

“She is. She was asking me how I am.”

“Awww-”

“Then asked if I did it.”

“-wwwwwhat?”

“She was asking if I did the explosion,” he repeated.

Varric fell silent, blinking a few times. “Wow. She must be a hard-ass, your mother,” he said finally.

“No, you don’t understand. I kind of get into a….lot of trouble so she thought it’s simplest to know first if I’m involved.”

“And are you involved?”

“Most of the time.”

Lelianna informed them that there was a response from the letters of Mother Giselle. The clerics have conceded to meet with them in the square in Val Royeaux.

So off they go to Val Royeaux. He had never been there and now that he had, he thought he had never before seen a city like it. Banners hung from before gilded doors, and cloths were slung overhead. The walls were made of blinding white with bright blue roofs. A fountain played merrily in the center of the square; its lip gilded in gold and guarded by lions. The people wandered like butterflies, with their colorful clothes and their intricate masks. Val Royeaux is reminiscent of a cake: dainty, pretty, and ultimately unfulfilling.

Before the entrance to the city was an avenue with statues on both sides. Statues of important people, no doubt. Curiously, their poses were turned away, hands over their faces in…embarrassment? He went to take a closer look and was immediately hit with a repulsive smell.

“Varric, I think I smell…piss?”

The dwarf chuckled behind him. “Smelled that, didn’t you? You see the statues? They carved them like that because people keep using them as a privy. It was started by some kid empress but now it’s kind of a tradition whenever people arrive at this city.”

“So should I piss on it too?”

“No!” was Cassandra’s horrified reaction.

They proceeded to the square where a throng of people gathered before a scaffold. Atop it, a Chantry Mother was preaching, with her sisters behind her nodding along. As usual of her ilk, she was telling the people not to lose faith, and be strong in such a time of deep trouble, until she caught sight of them. She immediately changed the substance and tone of her sermon. “Good people of Val Royeaux,” she called their attention, her voice sonorous, “together, we mourn the Divine. Her naive and beautiful heart silenced by treachery. You wonder of her murder. Wonder no more.” She gestured toward him and the crowd craned their heads around to them. “Behold the one they call the Herald of Andraste, daring to stand where she stood! This is a false prophet. The Maker would send no elf in our hour of need.”

At her words the people grumbled, staring daggers at them.

“Uh, Seeker, I think this is our cue to go?” Varric said, nervously looking at the people murmuring mutinously around them.

Cassandra scoffed. “Nonsense, Varric. We will stay our ground, not run like dogs with tails behind their legs.” Before the people turn completely against them, Cassandra addressed the cleric. “We are not your enemy, Mother. The Inquisition only wants to end this madness. We must unite.”

The Mother was about to answer when they heard marching. Turning to the side, they saw the templars arriving. Some of the people murmured approvingly at them. But the templars ignored them all and walked towards the platform, where Mother smiled at them in welcome. “The templars have returned,” she proclaimed. “They will stop this inquisition and protect the people once more!”

Lord Seeker Lucius, a tall, hard-looking man, with red-rimmed grey eyes and pasty face, walked up the platform. The Mother eyed him in rapture but before she could speak again, his hand flew out and socked her. She went down amidst the gasps of the people. A young templar was about to rush forward and help her up but a look from him stopped him. “Still yourself. She is beneath us,” Lord Lucius said. The templar looked uncertainly at the cleric then at the Lord Seeker. Then he stepped back, letting the Mother groan in pain alone.

Cassandra was first to react. “Lord Seeker? What is the meaning of this?” she asked, with confusion and anger.

The Lord Seeker turned to look down at her. “You will not address me. Your claim to authority is an insult like hers,” he replied, pointing at the cleric holding her bleeding mouth. “Creating a heretical movement and raising a puppet, you should be ashamed.” He looked over her to the people and addressed them. “You should all be ashamed! The templars failed no one when they left the Chantry to purge the mages. If you came here, seeking protection help the Chantry, you are a fool. The only thing that demands respect is mine.”

Lavellan was no fan of the Seeker, but with his treatment of the people, of Cassandra, people who had done no wrong to him, made him angry enough to speak. “If you’re not going to help, why are you here then? Aside from punching old women?”

“I came to see what they fear and __laugh__ ,” the Lord Seeker replied, “but punching them will have to do.”  He turned to his templars. “Come! This city is unworthy of our protection. The Chantry has shown me nothing and this Inquisition?” He sneered at them. “Less than nothing. I will make the templar order the only thing that stands against the void. We march!” So saying he led them out, the people parting before them, afraid to stop them.

When they were gone, the crowd erupted in hysterics, unable to accept that their only hope of protection is gone. Meanwhile, he fought his way forward and tried to help the Mother up, but she slapped his hand away. “Don’t touch me!” she shouted at him.

Cassandra and Varric had caught up to him and stood on both his side. When she saw the Seeker, the Mother glared at her, in anger and pain. “This victory must please you, Cassandra.”

Cassandra shook her head. “It was not our doing,” she said sadly. “It was not our aim for the templars to abandon the Chantry. We wished you to join us, but not this way.”

“Is it? Am I to believe that you have no part in forcing our hand? Do not delude yourself,” she scoffed. “Now we have been shown up by our own templars in front of everyone. And my fellow clerics have scattered to the wind, along with their convictions.”

“That was not out aim. We would not have you join us unwillingly.”

The mother needed a moment to think that through. When she had now comprehended the reality of the templar’s betrayal, and thus the final dissolution of the Chantry’s authority, her pride was overcome and she broke down. “Tell me, are you the Maker’s chosen as so many have claimed?” she croaked at him.

“What makes it so hard for you to accept that I might be?”

“We are not looking for the winning horse. We are simply doing the right thing.” She looked to the sky, hoping for an omen. “Andraste help us, if we are wrong.”

* * *

They had only gotten a promise from the Mother that they would inform them of their decision to either support the Inquisition or hope for something else. In the meantime, she pledged to stop either confirming or denying whether he was the Herald as they convened with the other clerics. Or calling them heretics unofficially.

“That’s as good as we’re gonna get,” Varric commented as they walked away from the crowd. “It could’ve been worse.”

“What are you implying?” Cassandra asked him.

“Are you blind, Seeker? Or you didn’t see the scaffold and the mob around us? If the pitchforks weren’t missing, we could be burning at the stake already.”

“Are you trying to pick a fight again, Varric?” Cassandra asked wearily.

“I’m just pointing out the obvious since someone isn’t doing their job right. Look, I’m glad we walked out of there with our heads intact, but maybe your people should check first to see if we’re walking into an ambush, even if we’re meeting people from the Chantry?”

She scoffed. “You think the Chantry is capable of making traps for people?”

“Sadly, it ends badly for them. The last one ended with an arrow through her head.”

“I can’t believe you’re accusing the Chantry of acting like common thugs!”

“How can’t I when I’m walking around with one?”

As Cassandra chased Varric around them, Solas sighed. “Now you’re both acting like children.”

“Sorry, Mother. But she started it,” the dwarf answered, ducking out of the Seeker’s reach.

“You little-”

What she was going to say was forgotten when an arrow suddenly landed next to them. They immediately stopped bickering, drawing out their weapons, their backs to each other and looked around for the archer among the crowd. But it was impossible, there were too many to watch and their drawn weapons only served to increase the tension around them.

“We’d better put our weapons away. It’s making people nervous,” Varric suggested. Cassandra nodded, their quarrel forgotten and plucked the arrow off the ground. She unfolded the piece of paper tied to it. “What’s this? An arrow with a message?” She read it aloud. It told them to follow the clues left behind if they want help. After they finished reading, Varric shook his head and said, “They may be serious or else screwing with us.”

“At any rate, we cannot ignore this. If someone’s trying to kill us, we must find out,” Cassandra said.


End file.
